Omoni's Maiko100
by Omoni
Summary: Taken right from the LJ community with the same name. 100 prompts for 100 fics! Note that some fics may contain undisclosed spoilers for the series.
1. Beginnings

**Just Me**

The smell of fresh spring blossoms always took him back. Even in his darkest moments, even when he was far away from home, it always took him far away and into simpler times, times that meant peace and joy only mildly spiced with disquiet and fear.

It had been a warm spring day when Zuko first met Mai. They were both so small and so innocent back then - as innocent as children born and raised during war time could be - and his world hadn't been shaken down into chaos quite yet.

Everything was sunny and bright, and being beside the turtle-duck pond made it all the more glaring – quite literally. But it wasn't too hot and the breeze was actually kind of cool, so both Zuko and his guest were comfortable.

Well, as comfortable as two kids could be while being consumed with shyness.

It wasn't his _fault!_ Zuko's only experience with girls were of his sister and Ty Lee, and they were hardly the type to judge all girls off of. Mai was completely different; she was shy and reserved, and always had her hands in her sleeves and her eyes downcast. Whenever she met his gaze, she always went pink and looked away, as if he had something on his face that she was too amused to tell him about. And this had been going on for an _hour_.

He was tongue-tied, to say the least. She was pretty, like one of Azula's dolls (before she set it on fire), and yet there was a kind of coolness to her that could be seen from miles away. He liked that, and liked her, but had no way to convey this to her. So he just sat beside her in silence, staring at the ducks paddling before them, occasionally throwing chunks of bread to them in what he hoped was a suave manner.

It was weird; usually it was Azula that got calls from girls, and Zuko also knew that Mai was one of Azula's friends from school. So why had she come over to see _him_? It wasn't like he was fun to be around, especially when it came to firebending, but even when Azula and Ty Lee came by to hover around them for a while, Mai didn't join them when they left. She merely stayed at his side, very quiet, the sound of her breathing softer than the sound of the breeze.

Occasionally she would giggle softly into a sleeve if one of the turtle-ducks did something silly, and he couldn't help but join in, trying to duplicate the moment for her just to hear the sound again.

Pretty soon, however, Mai's parents came to the gardens to bring her home. They both stood at once, together and in sync with each other, something Zuko couldn't help but notice.

She blinked at him shyly, her tilted eyes wide and full of an emotion he couldn't fathom. With pink cheeks, she leaned in and kissed him on the cheek, her lips dry and soft. "Thank you, Prince Zuko," she said softly. "I had a wonderful afternoon."

Zuko felt his own face heat up, and he couldn't help but protest her words. "But we didn't do anything!"

Mai smiled widely, and his heart suddenly leaped in his chest. "You don't have to put on a show for me, Prince Zuko," she replied. She waved, then went to join her parents.

Zuko put a hand to his cheek, watching her go. He stood on the spot for a long time, the perfume of fresh flowers making him dizzy and light-headed.

Or maybe it was the kiss that was making him feel dopey.


	2. Ends

_Writer's Note: Occurs post-DoBS and contains spoilers._  
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Left Holding the Candle**

All she wanted was to wash the stink of the bunkers from her clothes. She didn't want to think about the outside world. She didn't want to think about whether or not people died that day, or whether or not her family was okay, or whether or not Azula was even alive, despite having tried her hardest to teach her her best moves.

All Mai wanted to do was throw her clothes off an curl into the closest tub of hot water and pretend that everything was still fine and that nothing had happened and that the entire capitol _wasn't_ in utter disarray thanks to a group of kids.

She also wanted to know where the hell Zuko was. _He promised he would come visit me…and Ty Lee, I guess._

It wasn't like him to just not show up without any word. So where was he?

As she started ridding herself of the many layers of clothes, she wondered if, perhaps, he just forgot. Sometimes he did that, especially when things got intense, and he seemed really upset before, when he left the war council.

_"…But I wasn't me…"_

She sighed, the memory of his confused face bringing her some sadness. She wished she could help him. She wished she could distract him from it all.

But she also knew that when it came to things like this, no amount of distractions could keep him from thinking.

Mai turned towards her bed, about to toss the horribly musty-smelling clothes there, when she paused, her eyes falling on the roll of parchment lying innocently on the silk sheets. She froze, something deep inside of her turning to ice, and her stomach seized up so hard it hurt.

She abandoned what she was doing and grabbed it, unrolling it quickly and with shaking fingers. Her eyes raked over the painfully precise and careful characters, the style so familiar and so heart-wrenching.

She read it once, barely understanding. When she read it again, she started to understand, even though her heart was protesting, denying, and trying to convince her that it was some kind of joke…

Her eyes burned, the characters blurring into nonsense, as she read it over a third time. She could only understand a few of the sentences now, things like, "I'm leaving," "I never meant to hurt you," "There are things I have to do," and the most frustrating, "For my honour…"

If she were a firebender, the paper would have been nothing but ash by now. Everything in the room would have been ash, just like the way her heart felt within her breast.

She shut her eyes, about to rip the parchment to shreds, but something stopped her. She gritted her teeth, cursing her sentimentality, cursing her weakness and her longing and her own stupid, stupid heart, and she carefully rolled it back into a slim tube and placed it in her vest's pocket, close to her chest. Her heart. Her _damned_ heart.

Slowly after that, like a paper doll, she sat down on her bed, hunched over, and covered her face with her hands. She wept, like she used to when she had been a child.

And once that was over, she got up, wiped her tears away, and went on with what she was doing, her eyes dark and her heart heavy, the only two signs that she had received the letter at all.


	3. Poverty

_Writer's Note: Occurs up to The Western Air Temple and contains spoilers._  
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****Poor Man's Wealth**

Sometimes it was easy to forget to think things through. Iroh had always impressed it onto Zuko that preparation was the one thing that separated a foolish soldier from a successful one. He always chastised Zuko for his foolhardiness, his constant rushing into things without a plan, his perpetual impetuousness that always got him into trouble.

Zuko growled, rubbing his forehead and trying not to light something on fire in his frustration. The thing was, this time around, he had been so sure he was doing things _right._ He had brought food and water, he had brought a change of clothes and even an identification chop (ambiguous to use for cash without giving him away). He _did_ forget a tent, but the war balloon he stole from the barracks was decent enough cover.

So then why did he have that niggling feeling in the pit of his stomach that he was forgetting something?

He sighed, looking up at the sunny daylight, watching a couple of random cotton clouds make their way across the sky. He knew what he was forgetting. Or rather, who he was missing.

_I can be such a coward when I want to be,_ he thought, hugging his legs to his chest and resting his chin on his knees, his eyes dark. He _knew_ that leaving Mai behind was the right thing to do. Dragging her into this mess – his mess – was the last thing he wanted. She was happy there, happy where she was; she didn't deserve to be uprooted from all that she knew just because he wanted her there.

And he really did want her there. Everything he had written in that letter was true, but it wasn't the _whole_ truth. He said nothing about how he loved her so much it hurt, how if it were just him and her against the whole world, he wouldn't care as long as his hand was intertwined with hers. He said nothing of the pain he felt when writing that letter, how he wished he could have been writing a love letter, instead…

Zuko had no idea how long he would be stuck under his makeshift tent, but he found himself not minding too much if it meant that, in the end, he would end up joining the Avatar. He had lived in poverty before, experiencing hunger so terrible it was akin to insanity, and while he didn't want to experience that ever again, he knew if he had to, he would endure. He _had_ to endure. He _had_ to join the Avatar.

Because if he didn't, everything he had given up was nothing. Everything…and every_one_…he left behind would be nothing but ashes.

He wondered if Mai would ever forgive him. He wondered if he could come back to her as a real man instead of a scared boy. He wondered if she would be proud of him, or think him a traitor. He wondered if she would be relieved that he was gone.

It never occurred to him that perhaps it was the opposite, that that perhaps Mai would have preferred to be free of the silk cords that tied her to her station and not have a penny to her name, rather than having to he caught in them for the rest of her life without him.


	4. Wealth

_Writer's Note:_ Occurs post-Day of Black Sun Parts 1 and 2 and contains spoilers.  
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****Too Much of a Bad Thing**

The house was empty and her eyes felt full. All along Mai had known something like this would happen, somehow, deep down inside if she bothered to admit it, _although who would ever want to admit it,_ and of course the question was always "when" and not "if".

But she had always thought it would be later than sooner. Zuko had always seemed so _content_ when they were together. He seemed relaxed, smiling and happy, and for a while he seemed able to forget that his father was a bastard and his mother was missing and perhaps the world was in big trouble...

As she stood in the middle of the room, staring at the couch with blank eyes, all she could think of was how scared and confused Zuko's eyes had looked when he left the war council.

_By then, he was gone already,_ she thought grimly. _By then, he was already far away from me._

No amount of servants being bossed around would change that. No amount of jokes or tea or kissing or awkward lovemaking on the couch (or her bed or the floor or the springs) would change that, like it had those first few weeks back from Ba Sing Se.

She hated this house now. She hated everything to do with it. She hated the memories, the colours, the shining immaculate surfaces and the rich tapestries that most people would kill to get their hands on. She hated being an aristocrat, hated being a politician's daughter, and for the first time in her life she wished she was poor and desolate and able to not give a damn about anything else except for the jerk that dumped her.

She would trade it all just for one last hour with him, just so that she could tell him that she would rather be in danger at his side than safe and tucked up without him.

She flung her arm out, releasing a shower of knives. They buried themselves deep within the soft fabric of the couch, like quills in an unfortunate boar-bear's face.

It wasn't enough.

It would never be enough.

But she had to live with it. She had to deal with it. To accept it. To keep going.

She turned and fled the room, vowing never to set foot in it ever again, as long as she could help it.


	5. Two of a Kind

_Writer's Note:_ Occurs post-series and contains spoilers  
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* * *

****Great Minds Lead the Way**

The great thing about Mai, Zuko knew, was that she adored politics. Watching her in the midst of it all, fielding questions he struggled with and laughing demurely into a sleeve when one of the other men or women told a lame joke, was like watching a work of art. She was skilled, she was quick, and she was impervious.

She was also, if he dared admit it, a little scary. She was so different when she was seated on the dais with him that it was like sitting with a stranger. She was priceless and irreplaceable – of course he was the first to admit that – but for some reason it sometimes made him uncomfortable that she was so different.

It reminded him of when they were kids, and she was forced to smother her innate fire in front of her parents. He hated that and always did his best – then and now – to encourage her to be open with her emotions. But he wondered if having her on the dais was merely letting her fall into old patterns.

"What?" she blinked when he asked, her eyes widening. "You think I'm what?"

Zuko winced, knowing that tone of voice, the one that indicated that he was very close to verbal evisceration."I'm just worried that you think I don't want you to speak your mind, and I do. I really do. So don't be afraid to when we're in front of everyone, okay?"

Mai tilted her head to one side, her eyes narrowed. "Zuko, do you ever pay attention when we have meetings?" she wondered. Now she just sounded amused.

Zuko felt his face heat up, and he scratched a cheek. "Uh…" he stuttered, not willing to admit that for the most part he zoned out.

Mai smiled, reaching up and placing a hand on his cheek, his scarred one, a gesture that always made him close his eyes. "You were thinking about other things, weren't you, Firelord?"

His face went hotter, and he turned away, muttering something incoherent and unwilling to admit the truth.

"If you bothered to pay attention, you would notice that I'm not like I was," Mai grabbed his face in both hands, giving him a little shake. "Back then, I hated being a shiny doll for my parents. This time, I'm far from being like that. I'm actually having _fun_."

Zuko made a face. "Fun?"

Mai grinned, a disarming sight indeed. "Absolutely. Do you know how easily your men and women get intimidated by me? And do you know how easy it is to get what we want because of this?"

Zuko smiled a little. "I have noticed that, yes."

"Well, it's because I _like_ it, you ninny." She shook his head again and he laughed softly. "It's different with you. You never expect me to be perfect; you just want me to be me. Which is why it's so easy to enjoy it."

She lowered her hands and he took them into his, leaning in close. "You sure?" he wondered, looking right into her eyes. She wasn't too good at hiding things with her eyes even when the rest of her was flawless. And from the looks of it, she was sure. Her eyes danced.

"You know, Firelord, if you bothered to pay attention, you would realise that it's actually kind of fun, verbally sparring with people three times your age," she explained as they walked, one arm around his waist.

"Oh?" he said, putting his arm around her shoulders. "How so?"

"Because once they realise we know more than they do, they become so flustered that they end up letting us take the lead. And you know what that means."

With a laugh, he said with her at the same time, "More free time."


	6. Past

_Writer's Note:_ _One of three._ _Contains spoilers for "The Storm" and "Zuko Alone". Also contains a cut storyline from the comic "Going Home Again."_  
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**

**Remember Me**

There was little time to plan, and even less time to think of what to bring. His father wanted him gone, and now that he was able to stand on his own two feet without passing out, that time was now.

With still-blurry and limited vision from one eye, Zuko frantically scanned his room, trying to figure out the most important things he wanted to bring and what he could do without. There was so much he wanted to keep, and yet there was so little room in which to keep it all in. He was filled with a sense of panic, the kind a person gets when they know there is just not enough time when you need all of the time in the world.

His knife. He _had _to bring the knife. Not only was it small enough to keep on him at all times, but it meant a lot to him, from a time that was far more peaceful than now…

He went to one of the chests at the foot of the bed and rummaged through it for the knife, his hands shaking. If he took too long, who knew what would happen to him…

His fingers closed on something cold, and he snatched it up hurriedly, his mind already halfway down the hall and running towards the ship. When he realised that the weight of it was wrong, he froze, pulling his hand up from the chest and staring at what he held.

_Oh, no…_

_"Uh," a soft voice said from behind him. He turned, and there stood Mai, her pale face bright red and her hands held behind her back. She wouldn't look him in the eye, as if he was brighter than the summer sunlight that streamed in through the open windows._

_"Hi, Mai!" he smiled without a second thought, unable to keep his own cheeks from heating up. "I didn't know you were here. Are you here to see Azula?"_

_Mai jumped, her head lowering. She shifted from foot to foot, biting her lip. "No," she snapped. Her eyes flicked over to his for one split second, sending that all-familiar jolt into his chest. Then she darted forward, her hands coming out from behind her back. "Here," she said tersely, shoving a box into his chest. He grabbed at it, and she swallowed, then turned and rushed off before he could get a word in otherwise._

_Puzzled, he opened it, then blushed deeper, his eyes going from what he held to where Mai had stood. He smiled, not even realising that he was doing so._

In his shaking hand, he held that gift. It was no bigger than his palm, somewhat lopsided but smooth all the same. It was a product of thousands of years of erosion, and yet it looked like a perfectly craved trinket. But he knew it wasn't. It was shaped like a crooked heart.

_Mai._

His throat clogged up, he closed his fingers over the cool and smooth surface, his eye shutting. He held it close to his chest, trying to calm himself, unwilling to lose control when already he felt so fragile. Without opening his eye, he opened his shirt and slid the stone into the breast pocket inside. He patted it once, then resumed his search, his eye tearing over despite his futile attempts.


	7. Present

_Writer's Note:_ _Two of three._ _Contains spoilers for the series up to "Day of Black Sun: Part One." Also contains a cut storyline from the comic "Going Home Again."_  
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**Forget Me**

It's just like before, he realises, pacing the room and searching for necessities. This time he has more time, and his father isn't on his back to leave (yet, he adds silently, feeling a jolt to his gut), but inside he feels as frantic and confused as he did back then, when everything had shattered and everything was in pieces, something beyond his control.

This time, he's orchestrating the loss of control. This time, he's the one who is setting the rules for breakdown, setting the spark to ignite the barrel.

He wishes he had more time. There is so much more he wants to do. He wants to sent a letter to Iroh and prepare him for his rescue (like it or not), he wants to make sure that the kitchen staff will keep silent about his raid on their travelling rations, and he wants to make sure he hasn't left a trail for Azula to follow once he is finished betraying Ozai.

He stops. His heart clenches, and he winces, putting a hand to it. A familiar bump greets his palm, and he shuts his eyes, unable to swallow that lump of iron from his throat.

_"I can't believe you still have this," Mai says with wide eyes, her face partially covered by long locks of hair loose from their buns. He leans over her bare shoulder and kisses her warm skin, looking at what she is holding – only to squawk and reach over her, trying to grab the stone from her hand. She holds it up out of his reach, sitting up and smirking, her long nails closing over cold stone like a vise. Her cheeks are pink, but he knows it's not just from their recent intimacy together, and he finds his own face heating up all the same._

_"Yes," he agrees, reaching up to try and grab it. Her other hand is planted on his chest, holding him from what he seeks, and he growls, very close to whining. "Can I have it back now?"_

_"Why do you still have this?" she demands instead, her eyes grabbing his and refusing to let go. He sighs, his arms lowering from their reach and instead wrapping around her smooth waist. He buries his face into the curve of her neck and listens to her sigh. _

_"Because," he mutters, shutting his eyes. "I couldn't have you with me, could I? But…I didn't want to forget."_

_Mai lowers her arm; he feels it, even though his eyes are closed. In a split second she has pulled away from him, now facing him, her hands on his face. He opens his eyes and sees a vision of loveliness: Mai is smiling brightly, her face beaming with delight. He can't help but smile back._

_"You're a dweeb," she says, but he hears the words that she really says laced within, and he smiles back. She kisses the scarred patch of skin under his left eye, and he leans in close._

_I can't just leave her like this_, he realises, walking back to his desk and sitting down. _She has a right to know why._

He hesitates, shutting his eyes and putting his hand to that spot again, a familiar ritual that he had undergone for three years, before he picks up the brush and begins to write.


	8. Future

_Writer's Note:_ _Three of three. Occurs post-series and contains spoilers._  


* * *

**Be With Me**

When Zuko returns to the Fire Nation, once he recovers, the first thing he will do is send a sentry of guards around to the local prisons to locate Mai. When they return with nothing, he will then take it upon himself to find her alone, with no backup and with no one else privy to the fact that he is gone.

Before he leaves, he will be stopped by Mai, herself. She will act as if nothing had happened, but they will both know that of course much has. The gap will be bridged between them with simple gestures – helping hands on sore shoulders, a smile, a breath close to his ear – and once the dust settles, Mai will make it clear that she is here to stay, and Zuko will make sure she knows that that is all he wants.

And once the peace has settled over the Four Nations like a soft and slightly worn blanket, Zuko will present to Mai – during an everyday occurrence, because she hated to make a scene – the very same stone she had given him all of those years ago. Only instead, he will loop it around her neck, the stone secured on a gold chain, and ask her to marry him.

And Mai will blush, and choke a little, and then look angry and affronted and spit something insulting, but her smile will belay her harsh words, and he will know the answer is yes.


	9. First

_Writer's Note: Occurs shortly after "The Beach" and contains spoilers. It also has some hints of sex.  
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* * *

Polished and Smooth**

When Mai woke up in the middle of the night, she hadn't expected that it would be her last moment as a virgin. She found herself unable to sleep, restless and worried, the events of the previous day roiling around in her mind like a choppy sea. As she usually did when faced with insomnia, she got up to tire herself out with exercise.

The day after the party, she and the others had spent the day sleeping, overtired both from their emotional wear-and-tear and wearing-and-tearing the crap out of Chan's house. When Lo and Li woke them all up for an early dinner, Mai discovered that pretty much everyone seemed back to normal - Ty Lee was cheerful and fawning over Azula, and Azula herself was bragging about the mess they had made and how it had been her idea. Zuko was oddly quiet, his shoulder pressed against hers almost subconsciously, but she didn't press him to speak, and he didn't offer anything.

The whole thing had bothered her. He touched her, and acted normal enough, but he was withdrawn and almost like ice. He had been odd like that when they had returned from Ba Sing Se, but usually she was able to snap him out of it and give him happiness in order to forget. Those afternoons were spent in a happy haze, full of kissing and hugging and teasing, full of touching and whispers and hushed giggling.

But so far, Zuko's gestures had only been the kind that came with great confusion and pain. He hugged her hard, kissed her desperately, but somehow still kept himself aloof.

It bothered her. It pissed her off. It made her restless. So she was awake.

She crept out of the beachhouse, the tall shadows of the surrounding mansions looming over it like foreboding phantoms. She scowled at the shadows, some small part of her still a tiny and shy girl afraid of the dark. She hugged herself against the slight chill of the night, listening to the water and following it.

For a while, she skirted along the shore, her bare feet getting slick and scratchy with sand and foam. The water was warm and soothing, and she did a few hops and jumps through it as she walked, her mind distracted by this sensual bliss. She wandered aimlessly, having no destination in mind and realising it mattered very little anyway.

It was only when the sound of distant firebending echoed over the waters that Mai was pulled out of her little trance. She stopped, her head going up, her eyes narrowing. She listened, then followed the sounds, already knowing who it was and finding she was completely unsurprised by this.

Zuko painted a lovely picture on the shoreline, weaving and jumping through a set of moves like his life depended on it. The flares of firebending lit up his features in sporadic intervals, revealing a face drawn in anger and confusion. She froze, watching him from outside of his peripheral vision, spellbound by the naked emotions she saw in those moves.

When he gave a final kick and hunched over, gasping for breath and sweating, her heart raced. He stood there, his face drawn in his conflicted feelings, and suddenly he just dropped to his knees, covering his face with his hands. He didn't move or make a sound, but his shoulders shook.

Mai found herself going to him without even thinking about it. It was her nature to see Zuko's pain and want to calm it somehow. Slowly, she made her way to his side, not saying a word, her feet silent over the fine grains of sand. When she was close, he froze, stiffening and not pulling his hands away. She knelt down in front of him, placing a hand on his shoulder, the other on one of his hands.

"Zuko," she said softly. "Aren't you tired?"

He shook his head, paused, then nodded slowly. She gently pushed on his hand, and he pulled both of them away, revealing a face slick with sweat and tears. Her heart ached within her breast and she squeezed his shoulder, her other hand going to his hair and gently brushing the locks from his eyes.

A long moment was spent in silence, the two just sitting in the sand and gazing at each other. Mai took the time to try and comfort him, stroking his hair from his face and wiping the tears with her shirttail. Zuko sat motionlessly, as if he were numb to her gestures, but his eyes were light and full, and they were fixed on hers.

When she cupped his face in her hands and kissed the skin below his left eye, he seemed to just _melt_, like her lips had been a pinprick and he was merely a hot-air balloon. He grabbed for her, his arms going around her, burying his face into her hair and clinging tight. She held him close, her eyes shut. She said nothing. She knew.

He shook, and when he spoke his words wobbled. "I'm so confused," he admitted, his voice thick. "Every time I think back to _then_, I get more and more confused. All I see is Uncle's ashamed face. I can't even compare it to how I felt when Father welcomed me home...all I see is his shame."

Mai nodded, stroking his hair slowly and feeling it damp and warm with sweat.

"And when I feel like I'm going to just _rip apart_ from it all, you come along...and I just...I just..." His fingers dug into her back, clutching at her like she was the only thing keeping him afloat. "I can _breathe_ again, Mai."

She smiled a little, leaning down and resting her cheek on his head. "I asked you if you were tired, not if you were eager to angst at me," she replied teasingly.

He jerked his head up, almost knocking her face away. He looked up at her with surprise, and she smiled, still. He smiled back, the gesture shaky but real.

She leaned in and tried to kiss his nose, but he met her in the middle and kissed her lips. She kissed him back, then uttered a squeak when he pulled her closer to him and leaned backwards into the sand, pulling her with him. She toppled on top of him with a faint giggle, blushing from the sound. He smiled wider, the expression lighting up his face and making him look so much younger. He kissed her again. She kissed him back again.

For a while, there was nothing but kissing, gentle and soft, then needy and passionate and coupled with eager touching and heavy breathing. Mai was caught in this web of feeling and longing, adoring Zuko and wanting to make him smile and laugh, and in turn find joy and pleasure in being with him, just him for who he was, and not what people wanted him to be.

And as usual, Zuko had to shift a little under her, a dark blush spreading over his cheeks, when it became obvious that her actions when having an affect on him. To her surprise, however, she found herself reacting to that reaction, and instead of teasing him and pulling away like she always did, she pushed closer and stared into his eyes, wanting to see more of that look, wanting to watch his eyes change from it.

And it worked. His eyes shut and he uttered a soft groan, his hands slipping down holding tighter onto her hips. She licked her lips, just in time for his eyes to open again, and his mouth opened, his own tongue running over dry lips, as if tasting her own.

"Zuko," she said softly, leaning in close. "Let's do something stupid."

He blinked,confused. "Uh..." he whispered, shifting a bit under her again, sending a flash of heat through her. "Stupid?"

"Yes," she agreed. "Kiss me, and don't stop until we're spent."

His eyes flared, then wavered, staring into hers. She smiled, pushing closer. He held her, kissing her, unable to refuse her command.

* * *

After, covered in sand and feeling drained and sleepy, Mai curled up next to Zuko, eager for his warmth against the chill of the night. He held her close, his heart racing, his breath coming out in fast puffs as he tried to calm himself. She, too, was a little breathless, but it felt good, so it was a welcome feeling.

Granted, the act itself wasn't quite what she had expected, but considering that her knowledge of the act itself came from romance novels borrowed from Ty Lee and Azula's rants about how it could be used to gain power over others, it was hard to figure out _what_ she had been expecting.

It was awkward, and it hurt a bit, and Zuko kept apoligising and making sure she was okay. It didn't last too long (_another thing Zuko apoligised for,_ she thought in slight annoyance) and she didn't get a chance to come with him, but it had been hot and interesting and different, and least of all boring, and best of all, _with Zuko_.

So even though it hadn't been perfect, it had been perfect _for her_.

"Sorry," Zuko whispered into her ear again, forcing her to restrain herself from biting him. "I just...I've never...done that before. I, uh, didn't really know how."

Mai was quiet, thinking. She supposed she had known that; three years at see with a group of men left little time for women, although she realised with some embarrassment that she had thought that that part was moot, anyway (and she was surprised by her ability to accept that even if it _had_ been true), and that somehow Zuko had lost his virginity long before they reunited.

But the bigger part was touched, because her cynic part was proven wrong and she was happy - and flattered - that he had decided to share this moment with her, the fact that, even now, he trusted her...she bit her lip, curling up closer to him.

"Mai?" His voice sounded concerned, and she looked up to find his face matched it. "I'm sorry. I know...this wasn't exactly the best way to do this, and I wanted to do this the right way..." When she covered his mouth with her hand, he shut up.

"I was the one that propositioned you, you dweeb," she replied, sitting up and looking down at him with a smile. "Therefore, it was the right way. So shut up and hold me and quit being a baby." She settled back down beside him, scooting closer to him, and he laughed, hard, right from his gut and deep within his chest, his whole body shaking. She smiled, pressed closer, and just listened.


	10. Last

**Warning: Occurs pre-series and contains spoilers.**_  
_

* * *

**Shining and Priceless**

The sound that came from between Mai's lips was something like a growl, only more like a purring noise. Maybe something between both. Zuko watched her make that sound, her lips parted and her eyes going dark and glassy, feeling a thrill that he was the one making her do both. Her nails dug into his shoulders deeply, but he didn't wince. He met her eyes and stared, and something flickered in those eyes before they closed, and soon he felt his own eyes close tight.

After, Zuko held her close to him, wanting to feel her pressed close to him despite the heat and the sweat and barely being able to catch his breath. Mai melted against him, boneless and slick and loose, and he stroked her hair, breathing in deeply, relishing in every single second he spent with her.

"Hey," she said after a moment, once his breathing had slowed down to something close to normal. He opened his eyes slowly and found her looking up at him, her cheek pressed against his chest, her eyes wide and somewhat vulnerable looking. He blinked, surprised by how fragile she looked all of a sudden. He opened his mouth, but she went on before he could say anything. "You know I'm here for good, right?"

Zuko smiled, sliding his arms around her and holding her closer to him. "I should be the one to say that to you."

"True," she agreed, nuzzling into the crook of his neck and closing her eyes. "But since you're too dense, I'll say it first; I'm here for good, Zuko. Okay? I'm not going anywhere. You're stuck with me. Deal."

Zuko closed his eyes, feeling his heart grow sore. He realised quite suddenly that she always knew the right thing to say, even if it was harsh at times. He leaned in close, keeping his eyes shut. "Thank you," he whispered into her ear.

She smiled, kissing his neck in reply. "Even if you try to get away, I'll find you."

Zuko laughed a little. "I dunno, I'm pretty quick."

"Whatever. You can't be quick with a knife in your gut."

He laughed again. She opened her eyes and looked up at him again, smiling. "I like that. That's probably the first time you've laughed for real in years."

Zuko kissed the tip of her nose. She wrinkled it."Thanks for making me laugh," he said honestly.

"So…" she blushed, something he loved to see. "Now's the part where you assure me you're not going to leave me."

Zuko blinked back. He looked right into her eyes, watching the blush go deeper. "Do I really need to?"

She scowled. "Yes. You're the one that's left, twice."

"The first time was not my fault!"

"Whatever! The second time was!"

Zuko rolled his eyes. "This is something that's going to come up every single time I'm on the short end of an argument, isn't it?"

To his delight, Mai smiled. "Yes. Get used to it."

Zuko grinned back. They had both heard his confirmation, and her acceptance, in that one short exchange.


	11. Honour

_Writer's Note: Occurs after Book Two and contains spoilers.  
_

_

* * *

_

**Definition**

For years, Zuko had it in his mind that his honour was dependant on bringing the Avatar to his father in chains. It was something he had taken to the heart, something that flowed through his veins. His happiness depended on it. If he was close to getting the Avatar, he could felt happy. If he was far away, he was unhappy. It was incredibly simple, incredibly easy, and incredibly misleading.

Then it all fell apart. His sister wanted him dead. His father probably did, too. He could only depend on Iroh, and in the end he still betrayed him. Everything was a spiral of loss and confusion and he _still_ had no idea what honour was supposed to be. Was it the Avatar? Was it _killing_ the Avatar? Azula had thought so. Gone so far as to kill him. Gone so far as to laugh about it later.

Was that kind of honour for him?

But then he wad distracted. By Mai. By smoky eyes and subtle smiles. By warm kisses and warmer embraces.

Days spent lying side-by-side on couches and beds. Nights spent skin-to-skin cocooned in whispers and laughter.

He was able to forget for a while. He was able to forget he wanted his honour back. Despite what Azula and Ozai said, he knew it was still far from his reach.

But when he did reach out, when his fingers touched smooth skin and silky black hair, when he looked into her face and saw smiles and happiness, he wondered. He really wondered if he had been chasing the wrong person this whole time.


	12. Tears

_Writer's Note: Occurs during and after The Boiling Rock Part Two and contains spoilers.  
_

_

* * *

_

**Fight and Flight**

When it came to Mai, Zuko could handle her anger. He could handle being yelled at, being called names, being insulted and made fun of and threatened with sharp objects being hurled into his body. She was good at it; she had a way with words, with making even the most innocent of phrases seem like a deadly threat. She was often deadpan, calm in her fury and cold in her rage. These were things he had found himself used to, found himself expecting when he knew he had angered her, and found that he was able to _deal_ with whatever form her anger came in.

But when she cried, his world turned to ash. When her eyes filled with tears and her eyes went light with grief, his vision went dark. When her face crumpled into a grimace of pain and she lowered her head to hide her face from him, his heart cracked and all he wanted to do was run and disappear so that her reason for crying would vanish from her life for good.

When he locked her in that cell, her eyes filled. When he met them, it took every shred of self-control not to open the door again.

He didn't think about it then. He just ran. But later, after she rescued them, after they got away, after everything had settled down and he was able to rest, Zuko curled up in his decaying cot and thought about it.

And all he could do was crumple, himself. There was no other way to deal with it.


	13. Laughter

_Writer's Note: Occurs post-series and may contain slight spoilers.  
_

_

* * *

_

**Pushing a Button**

Zuko didn't laugh much. That was okay, because Mai didn't laugh much, either.

At least, that was _before_. Before he came home again. Before she saw him in Ba Sing Se. Before she slapped a dead fish on his head.

Then, suddenly, it was easy for her to get him to laugh. He had so many different laughs that she sometimes made a game out of it, to see what kind of laugh she could get from him if she did something specific.

When he was happy, his laughs were a little high-pitched and disjointed.

When he was hyper, they were _incredibly_ high-pitched and tended to crack.

When he was calm, they were low and soft.

When he was aroused, they were light and breathless, usually close to her ear.

When he was sad, and she was trying to cheer him up, they sounded helpless and weak, but were real all the same.

She loved that. She loved hearing his laughter. She loved hearing his voice.

She loved being one of the very few who could make him laugh. Even just a little.


	14. Hope

**More Than You Know**

"Mai," Azula's voice cut through the older girl's stupor, jerking her out of her long trail of thoughts without want. She raised her head, watching with some wariness as the princess strode her way over to her side and stood before her, hands fisted and on her hips. Mai didn't move from her place on the bed, despite how irritated Azula looked. Her fourteen-year-old heart was broken. Didn't Azula get that?

"Mai!" Azula snapped again, her voice sharper. _Guess not_, Mai thought sullenly, slowly dragging herself to a sitting-up position. "_What?_" she snapped back, reaching up to yank her messy hair from her face. She hadn't washed it in two days, but she didn't care.

"Are you _still_ moping about Zuko?" Azula demanded, her eyes flashing. Mai wanted to sigh, or maybe throw something at her, but she resisted. Instead, she said nothing, so Azula went on. "It's been a week since he was banished. Get out of bed and move on with your life."

Mai stared at her mutely, unable to think of anything to say. She knew that Azula and Zuko were - at best - full of love-hate for each other, but looking at Azula now, you would never know that "love" had been there at all. In fact, she seemed positively over the moon that Zuko was gone.

_I wonder if I'll ever understand her,_ Mai thought.

Azula seemed to sense a kind of chill in Mai, for she relaxed her hands and sighed, then sat down on the edge of the bed, reaching out to place a hand on Mai's shoulder. "Look," she said, her voice much softer. "I know that you and my brother had some sort of thing going on for whatever reason before he left, but the fact is that he isn't coming back."

Mai flinched, but Azula went on, pretending not to notice.

"I'm just trying to protect you. I want you to move on, because if you keep hoping he'll come back, you'll just set yourself up for more heartbreak."

Mai looked right into Azula's eyes, the colour a trace darker than the pair she knew so well, and she really thought about it. Azula's perfect lips curved into a small smile, her face the perfect mask of sympathy, but Mai wondered - even then - what it could all mean. Those eyes held another light in them, a light that seemed calculating, ever-calculating, even as she spoke. It was strange...and unnerving.

And even though there was sound logic in Azula's words, even though Mai knew that it was unlikely that Zuko was ever coming back, that he would ever find the Avatar and be able to come home, there was something deeper within her that held onto that shred of hope, that he _would_ come home, that she _would_ see him again - someday.

Slowly, Mai nodded her agreement, looking away from Azula's eyes and down into her lap, where her hands lay loosely. She sighed. "I guess you're right," she admitted. That much was true.

Azula squeezed her shoulder, her sharp nails digging in a little. Mai wondered if she noticed that. "So, you'll get out of bed? Come back to school? Ty Lee and I have been so bored without you."

Mai raised an eyebrow at that. "I'm sure," she replied dryly. "But, yeah. Give me another day. I'll be out by tomorrow."

Azula smiled wider. "That's great, Mai!" she said, sounding like she meant it. With a graceful move, she rose to her feet and released Mai's shoulder. "Well, I'll leave you to it, then. See you at school tomorrow?"

When Mai nodded, Azula turned, waved a bit, and left, her parting words called over her shoulder: "Rest well!"

When she was sure Azula was gone, Mai pulled a face and rolled her eyes, throwing herself back down onto her bed and curling up into a small ball.

_Forget about him, huh? Move on, live my life, forget about it all?_

She closed her eyes, holding her hands to her chest and biting her lip. She _wished_ she could. But she just _couldn't_. She still wished that Zuko would find some way to come home...to _her_.

The Avatar wasn't just hope for people outside of the Earth Kingdom. That much was for sure.


	15. Fear

Warning: Contains spoilers for the series, up to The Boiling Rock duet.

**Fearless in Chains**

Mai was proud of the fact that she wasn't afraid of much. When she was small she had a suspicious fear of burning apples, but even that passed. When it came to fear, she found herself shrugging it off more often than not.

When her family was transferred to Omashu, which was rumoured to be a hotbed of rebellion, she merely shrugged and said, "Great. Are we allowed to fight back?"

When Azula told her that there would probably be a lot of danger on the road, she sighed and rolled her eyes, muttering, "As long as I'm not bored, the whole Earth Kingdom can attack me."

When Azula led them towards Ba Sing Se's wall and it became clear that without the three of them they would be stopped, her answer was to sigh and answer with, "_Finally._ Something to _do_."

When she faced the Kyoshi Warriors and stole their paints and clothes, she felt not a shred of worry that she would be caught. "I don't even recognise myself with how _frilly_ I look," she observed.

She never thought of losing. She never thought of consequence. She never really understood how people felt when they faced a moment of danger, for she never felt the sweaty palms and racing pulse in response to anything but excitement.

Although, there was one exception, one that she swore she would die with.

When Azula burst into her room one day and said, with bright eyes and a huge grin, that Zuko was going to face Ozai in an Agni Kai, she felt her gut clench and her heart stutter. _That_ had been fear.

When she heard that Zuko had been banished and sent outside of the Fire Nation, she lay awake at night staring up at the ceiling, unable to sleep, wondering if he was okay, wondering if he would be okay. _That_ had been fear.

When Azula told her that Zuko had been declared a national traitor, she bit her lip and looked away, unable to say anything sarcastic. Instead, she merely looked at her hands, wondering if he was hiding somewhere safe. _That_ had been fear.

And when she had seen her uncle's men about to dunk Zuko and his friends into the masses of boiling water in a scalding death, after shouting herself hoarse and stopping short of _strangling him herself_, the only thing she could do was throw herself into the fray and risk herself to save him, _knowing_ she would go down and _knowing_ that if she didn't, he would go down instead. _That_ had been fear, the worst fear she had ever known.

She didn't like it. She didn't want it. But if it meant saving Zuko even from _himself_, she would accept it.


	16. Love

_Warning: Contains spoilers for the end of the series._

**The Man She Loves**

When Mai was little, her mother would often regale her with stories about what love was supposed to be.

"You want someone who can take care of you, Mai. Someone who brings you joy, but someone who also brings you more than joy. He must bring you more than just himself, you know."

Mai was too small to realise that she was walking into a trap. "What else does he need to bring?" she wondered.

Her mother smiled, her wide and accommodating smile, the one she used in public around her father's men. "Status, glory, a name for himself. It doesn't hurt that he has money as well, but the first three are most important."

Mai didn't think about these things until much later in her life. She never thought of them when she was growing up, because in her experience the boys she dealt with were hardly men, and she didn't want any of them anyway - they were all stupid and boring.

But when it did come up, and she did find herself in love, all of her mother's words came back to haunt her, and she found herself mulling them over and doing a comparison, all the same.

Zuko had status, that was for certain: it just varied from time to time. From exile to wanted as a criminal, from prodigal prince to deserter, and then finally returning as saviour and Firelord...Zuko had the status, surely.

But for Mai, it was the fact that he never paraded this status over anyone, never used it as a weapon, that meant much more than his having it. When they were together, he never expected her to defer to him. When they were side-by-side, he never expected her to bow or walk behind him. They were partners.

Glory...Zuko had it. He had the glory in realising that his existence was pivotal in winning back the world for itself, and not for Ozai. He could find glory in new peace, and glory in simple things.

But for Mai, she realised that the real glory came from how they were together, how Zuko would find it with _her_, how it wasn't dressing up in silks and wearing jewels that brought it for him; rather, it was spending time alone with her, or surrounded by friends and dressed in plain clothes and loose hair, that was really glorious.

Everyone in the world knew Zuko's name by now, that was also true. Most people could say his name with a smile, others with some trepidation and nervousness. Some said it with hate, but the aforementioned would change their minds eventually. And it wasn't something his father gave him; no, Zuko's name was something he earned for himself in those hard three years.

But for Mai, it was that Zuko wanted to hear her say his name, in many different ways, just normally and without any kind of falsity. He wanted to hear his name spoken by someone who was always honest and who said it with love. That was more important to him than a room full of lickboots.

And joy? Zuko had that in spades. The new peace was ushering in a time of prosperity and luck that had people rushing back to the capitol to reap the benefits. For a nation torn to bits by the war it created, it was becoming very wealthy indeed.

But all Mai found in Zuko was joy. True, times could be trying, there was no avoiding that. But then, times were also limitless and amazing. Small joy could be found in small gestures and moments, ones that could be relished over later on when things got rough. Mai was never short of joy.

So when Mai announced her engagement to Zuko in front of her parents and brother, her mother later pulled her aside and asked her, "Do you remember that talk we had long ago, about the right kind of man?"

Mai smiled coolly. "Yes," she replied, internally readying herself for conflict. "I do."

Her mother reached up and cupped Mai's face into her hands, shocking her - when was the last time her mother had openly touched her like that - before saying, with a bright smile, "You did wonderfully! I knew you could, Mai!"

When her mother hugged her, Mai smiled. She hugged back, thinking to herself, _I did do wonderfully...just not in the same ways you - or I - had expected._


	17. Lust

_Warning: Contains spoilers for the end of the series. Also contains sexual content.  
_

**Hunger**

Most women looked at Zuko with a look that was judged to be desire. They watched him walk with narrowed eyes and small smiles, their lashes swooping down as they took him in. They followed his progress and were desperate to attract his attention.

Some would try to shock him with epithets about the fidelity of his wife, offering to avenge his own tarnished honour by exacting the same kind of act with them. Others would try to "open his eyes", as if he couldn't see what Mai looked like, couldn't help but notice that her hair was "too straight" and she was "too masculine", "too thin" and "too gloomy".

Even Mai suffered a few attempted conquests of her own, being told that the Firelord didn't have time for her and she wasn't appreciated as she should be. That he was "tainted" with the blood of his father, that he was "scarred beyond recognition" and thus was nothing to look at, and wouldn't she want to know what a real man feels like in bed?

What they didn't understand that, when alone, Mai and Zuko thought very little of anything or anyone else but each other. Rumours and slander did nothing to deplete the want and need earned over a long day or week or sometimes more than that.

The only eyes Zuko felt on his body were Mai's. The only taint that Mai could see on Zuko was that he was too tired.

Alone, behind closed doors, there was no other world but the one they created for each other. Be it in a flurry of rushed and stolen time, pushed up against random pieces of furniture or walls and fully clothed, or in a long and slow afternoon taking hours and hours consumed in every sense and taste and feel of sweat-salted skin and cries of euphoria as they moved together.

No amount of carefully placed words or coyly masked leers would change the fact that when it came to each other - and their bodies - the only people that Mai and Zuko wanted naked was themselves, together, and alone.

When alone, there was little to keep them apart. Whether it be a few minutes between meetings or a few hours before dawn, there was no diminishing the passion felt between the two of them.

If it happened between meetings, it would be a flurry of groping, panting, mouths colliding, fain moans and cries, the yanking up of robes and skirts, followed by a flurry of hurried kisses, thrusts, and taking turns being pressed against things until either Mai or Zuko climaxed. And once that was taken care of, dresses would be adjusted, robes would be let down, and hair would be fixed and smooth. Then, with a shared secret smile, they would return to the meetings - just in time and holding hands, relaxed and calm.

If it happened hours before dawn, it would be slow - hours long - a stark difference from the furious hard sex of political treaty-making. Either Mai would be awoken with callused fingers running up and down her sides and hot breath washing over the curve of her neck, or Zuko would suddenly feel a Mai-sized weight pressed on top of him, followed by teeth gently biting the lobe of his ear. Soft laughter would fill the newborn morning air, stirring blood and desire all at once. Mai's long fingers would close over hardened flesh and stroke, and Zuko's dry and warm hands would cup soft breasts and listen to Mai's purrs. It would be an hour - maybe more - before the actual lovemaking began, and even then it would be prolonged and slow, heartaching and sweet. Slow thrusts, simple moves, fingers entwined as well as bodies, breaths matched and synced... it was as close to being one person as possible.

Never, during any of these times, did Mai nor Zuko have any thoughts of anyone else. How could they possibly? In their intimate universe, this universe they made for each other, the only two existing were them. There was simply not enough room for anyone else. And that worked well for both of them.


	18. Truth

_Warning: Contains spoilers for the end of the series.  
_

**Nice Try **

Zuko couldn't lie to save his life. He tried, but almost always failed. Something always gave him away. It was the catch in his voice, or the shifting of his eyes, or the twitching of his fingers or the tightening of his lips.

The thing is, when it came to lying, only a few people could tell. Aang could tell, and so could Katara. Toph definitely could, but Sokka was one of the few in their little group that couldn't. Same with Suki, though Ty Lee always knew. She had grown up with him, after all.

That didn't stop him from trying, however. "Everything's fine," he would say calmly when everything wasn't, never realising that his body always betrayed him, looking so surprised and dismayed when his friends called him out on it. "I can handle this on my own," he would occasionally say as well, which was an even bigger lie than the previous. _That_ never failed to get annoyed responses, since everyone who knew him also knew that while he could _survive_ on his own, _handling_ things was a whole different thing.

The only person he never dared try to lie to was Mai. Out of everyone, even Aang, she was the hardest to lie to. She picked up on lies with greater ease than Toph, and she never let him even finish the lie, cutting him off with a curt, "Knock it off," or "Try again."

They were always the same stupid lies that he told his friends. The only difference was that after the first few times, he gave up trying. He realised, quite quickly, that there was simply no telling Mai a lie. She would only accept the truth, and always knew what was true and what wasn't.

He used to find it hard to deal with. But now? While she stood at his side, helping him rebuild the world, he found himself grateful for it. Mai was the only person who forced him to be true, above all, to himself.


	19. Lies

_Warning: Contains spoilers for the end of Book Two.  
_

**Shielded**

Mai's lies were skillful and interwoven. She lied with the best of them, lied without hesitation or indication that she was doing so. The words fell from her mouth, painted a false image, protected her or damned her in whatever was suitable for the moment.

Her father and mother were skilled in lies. They lied about her worth and her freedom. They lied about love and trust. She learned from the masters.

Azula taught her even further. She taught Mai how to lie to manipulate people, how to lie to put the blame on others, how to lie to put onus on those less than herself.

For the longest time, Mai was like a skilled artist, weaving tapestries of lies for her family and her princess, keen on surviving and getting ahead and proving that she was more than just a puppet or a doll.

She didn't realise that, by lying so flawlessly, she was in fact the puppet her parents and her princess had always wanted. She was a tool to sharpen. She was a weapon to use when the chance came up. Her worth was contingent on how skillful she lied.

For a while, she didn't care. The truth of her lies served as protection from anyone else. With the exception of Ty Lee, who could always see through her lies and laughed at them, she used this verbal weapon to keep everyone else away.

Until she met with Zuko again, she didn't think she was missing much of anything. In Ba Sing Se, she realised she wanted to keep lying to herself as well as to Zuko. But she couldn't, even when she wanted to.

One afternoon, shortly after coming home to the Fire Nation, Zuko invited Mai over to the Palace. They sat before the turtle-duck bond, just like they had when they were kids, their shoulders pressed close and their hands intertwined.

Zuko suddenly said, "I really messed up. I ruined everything." Mai blinked and looked over at him, finding that his face was drawn and pinched with pain. He didn't look at her, but his fingers tightened around hers. "I know that what I did was right for the nation, and I know it's probably for the best, but..." He shut his eyes tight. "I can't help but feel like I've lost my honour anyway."

Mai opened her mouth to lie, to tell him that by coming back - by aiding in the murder of the Avatar - he had proven himself more than worthy to be back. But instead, the words that tumbled out her mouth were, "Yeah. Maybe you did. If you feel that way, you probably did. But you're home now, and everyone is happy. You might as well pretend you are, too."

Zuko raised his head, staring at her with both dismay and agony etched on his face. Mai regretted her words, wondering why her skilled tongue had failed her, and why - of all things - she had just encouraged him to lie, as well.

She smiled, knowing her smile lacked all warmth. "We'll be liars together, except when we are together. Does that make sense?"

Zuko's face fell, and he nodded, looking sickened by the fact. He leaned in and rested his head on her shoulder, and she slid her arms around him, holding him close and resting her cheek on the top of his head.

_The truth,_ she decided, _hurts most when it's unwanted. But lies only push that pain away for a short time._

It wasn't how she wanted to live anymore - especially when it came to living - and loving - Zuko.


	20. Clean

**No Touchy**

Mai loved baths. She loved the hot water, the steam in the air. She loved getting undressed and jumping into the water, loved loosening her hair and feeling it cloud around her in the water. She loved spending hours in the water, loved dozing off and relishing in the pleasures of such a simple thing. She always sat until the water grew cold and her hands wrinkled up.

Zuko didn't hate baths, but he _hated_ it when Mai had baths. She was in there forever, and ever and ever, and he always had to wait for her to finish before even thinking about talking to her. She had this _thing_ about not being spoken to when she was in there, and it made him crazy! What was so important?

But when everything was said and done, and she came _back_ from the bath, well...that was something else. She was always so clean, looking so fresh and relaxed, her hair hanging from her head like wet seaweed, her body covered in thin silk robes. She always walked back with a towel wrapped around her neck and an eyebrow raised, as if she were silently asking him, _Was it so bad to wait? Will you relax, now?_

And then he would forget what he wanted to say. All he could think about was touching her and holding her, smelling her fresh clean smell and holding her close.

But then, she would shove him off her with a scowl, snapping out, "No! I just got clean! Go away!"

In which then Zuko would remember why he hated Mai's baths, and always would.


	21. Dirty

_Writer's Note: Occurs post-series and contains spoilers._

**Blood Price**

The negotiation had gone badly. The mass amounts of rebels wouldn't listen to reason, and in the end even vast compromises weren't enough to soothe their rage. Out of all of the rebel pockets, this one was...had been the worst for Zuko and his people.

Zuko came home to the Fire Nation trembling, his face ashen and his eyes wide and glassy. Mai had risen to her feet in a second and embraced him close, holding him and wishing she could steal away the trembles. All Zuko said was, "I feel so stained. Stained with their blood."

Mai led him away from the prying eyes of his fellow politicians, summoning one of them and dismissing the rest of Zuko's duties for the rest of the day. Zuko didn't utter a word of protest - he merely let her lead him away by the hand, his eyes unfocused and his mouth pressed in a grim line.

Once they got to the royal suites, Mai pulled Zuko into the room and sat him down on the bed. Gently, she reached down and cupped his face between her hands, looking right into his eyes. He looked up at her, his eyes huge on his face, his lips trembling almost as much as his body.

Mai kissed his forehead slowly, then tugged on his hands and brought him to his feet. Wordlessly, she pulled him slowly towards the bathhouse, dismissing protesting servants and somewhat scandalised bathing staff as she went. Together, they went into the already steaming rooms, alone.

Zuko watched in confused silence as Mai dropped his hands and began to undress slowly. She moved without sensuality, without a care - she was all business and lacked any kind of sexual tension. When she was naked, she turned to him and, while loosing her hair, said softly, "You too, Zuko."

He blinked slowly, then exhaled slowly, nodding more habitually than in confirmation. As Mai knelt beside the steaming bath and dipped her hand in, Zuko undressed as if sleepwalking.

When he padded over in his bare feet to join her, she stood up and took his hands again and led him to the shallow side, walking with him down the stairs and into the hot water. The heat seemed to permeate into his bones, loosening chilled insides and leaden limbs. As Mai tugged him deeper, he shut his eyes and relaxed, letting her lead him anywhere.

In silence, broken only by the gently lapping water, Mai bathed him slowly and gently. Again, her movements lacked any sexual tension, but they had a gentle degree to them that made him feel relaxed and comforted beyond anything else he had ever felt before.

And as the water sluiced over his body, he started to weep, the burden of the day finally coming out and leaving him. Mai merely continued, once and a while stroking his hair, her touch lingering over his body as she cleaned the dirt and blood away.

It took at least an hour. Mai lost track of time - she only paid attention to Zuko, his pain and his tears, his need for comfort and distraction, and a chance to grieve for the price of peace. Once every inch of him was clean and every tear was shed, Mai floated behind him and slid her arms around his waist, resting her chin on his shoulder and closing her eyes. Zuko lowered his head but reached up, holding onto her arms and holding her close.

"Better now?" she whispered softly into his ear, when she knew he was ready to talk.

He nodded slowly. "I'll always feel that stain, Mai. But now..." He took in a shaky breath. "Now, I feel less dirty. Thank you."

She kissed his shoulder in reply. She understood.


	22. Hands

**Touch Me**

Mai's hands were kept the picture of good health when in the company of her family. They were kept soaked, painted, and filed into perfection, any signs of calluses buffed away to smoothness, any signs of daily use scrupulously removed with tiny tools that glinted in the bright lamplight of her mother's paint room. Any hint of Mai's hard work with her knives was smoothed away, any sign that she took martial arts was hidden in hours of soaking and lotioning.

When she left Omashu to follow Azula and Ty Lee on their chase for their Avatar - and Zuko and Iroh - habit kept her keeping up with these pointless rituals. They weren't as effective as her mother's constant care, but the maintenance had this odd feeling of comfort for her, as if no matter how hard things got, there was always time to look after her hands.

Zuko's hands were worn and scarred, the products of years and years of handling fire without much thought to the consequences. They were dry and creased, aged prematurely due to neglect, and were like sandpaper to touch. They bore every single mark of his struggles, displayed every moment of his pains.

Not a moment was spent in caring about how his hands looked. Not a second thought was spared thinking about how they might feel on another person's skin. All he cared about was getting stronger, learning faster, and gaining ground against the Avatar. If he had to sacrifice the health of his hands to do it, well, war was full of sacrifices.

It was only when the two reunited that suddenly they realised just how important it all was. Mai's hands always remained smooth and immaculate, but they held a certain cold degree to them that hours of pampering seemed to leave permanently on her skin. Zuko's abrasive touch was shocking for someone like Mai, and it embarrassed him when he noticed her wincing a little from how dry and hard his fingertips were.

And for a while, both worked on it. Mai eased off on the routine that she had carefully dedicated herself to. Zuko made time to focus on a routine of his own.

But then, in the still of the night, when both were lying together in Mai's bed, drifting between sleep and wake, Mai picked up one of Zuko's hands between her own and murmured softly, her voice slurred by sleep, "We balance, you and I."

Zuko opened his eyes and looked down, blinking slowly. She smiled sleepily up at him. "We do. I'm too perfect, and you're not even close." She sandwiched their hands together. "Together, we're balanced."


	23. Hair

**Haircut**

"It's way too long."

Zuko made a face at her through the mirror, one that was quickly followed by a wince as Mai tugged a little too hard on his hair. She was pulling his bangs upwards, holding her sharpest pair of scissors in place. Her eyes were sharp and on his, her face practically glowing with amusement. She held the metal tool in place, and Zuko could feel the cold of the blades on his scalp.

"It's not too long," he protested, knowing it was pointless. "It's growing out."

"It's not going to grow out when you don't even take care of it," she answered, her hand still carefully motionless.

"How can it grow if you keep cutting it?" was his answer.

Her eyes glittered dangerously in reply, and he sighed, closing his eyes. He knew he was defeated. "Okay, okay," he said finally, unable to keep from whining. "You win."

Her reply was to close the blades on his hair, several of the black locks falling into his lap. He sighed, holding the still-warm chunks helplessly. He missed them already. "All I want is to be able to put my hair back without trouble," he grumbled.

"Shut up," Mai answered. "It's hair - it grows back."

Zuko peered up at her, blinking a few errant strands that had gotten into his eyes. "Really?" he wondered. "Then it shouldn't be a problem if we cut _your_ hair after this."

Mai's eyes flash steel, an even harder steel than her scissors. "Never," she snapped.

Zuko chuckled, unable to keep it in. "What, so you can be vain about your hair and I can't?"

Mai stared at him in the mirror, her face impassive. "When you've spent most of your life growing out your impossibly slow-growing hair and finally finding a hairstyle that tames its easily-disguised horrible-ness, _then_ you can start making fun of how I do my hair. Until then? Shut up and deal with it."

Zuko stared at her, watching both her and his hair in varying intervals. He was amazed by this sudden confession, and had to admit to himself that he had really had no idea that Mai's hair gave her so much trouble.

When she was done, he had to admit that his head felt lighter, and he could see much better. She set the scissors down and crossed her arms over her chest, scowling at him. He turned to her and put his chin on her arms, smiling up at her in a way that made her roll her eyes and grab a fist full of his newly-trimmed tresses.

"How mad would you be if I messed up your hair?" he asked suddenly, a sly grin spreading upon his lips.

Mai smiled back, her smile coy. "Depends on how you do it."

When he stood up and took her into his arms, she let him. When he kissed her and reached up to free her hair, she let him do that too, unable to admit that the feel of his fingers through her usually-immaculately styled hair was akin to a warm fluffy blanket on a bitterly cold day. No matter how messy it got, or the work it took after to make it obey again... with Zuko, it was worth it.


	24. Eyes

_Writer's Note: Contains spoilers for the end of Book Two._

**Echoes**

When Zuko was small, his eyes were wide and bright. His gaze was even, and even with a smile on his face, his eyes were always huge on his face. Mai found it easy to fall into that gaze, found it easy to blush and get a fluttery stomach, all while muttering something sarcastic about sticking her knives into his guts. She never got tired of looking into them, although sometimes it overwhelmed her - the intensity of his returned look would make her heart pound and ache within her breast, and she would feel so vulnerable and naked that she would be forced to look down.

She kept that gaze with her when Zuko left. Part of her - the smallest part - was glad when she was banned from seeing him leave in his banishment, for she didn't want the memory to be tainted.

But the memory _would_ be tainted, especially when she wasn't expecting it. Azula tried to warn her, in her own special way, with: "He's completely disfigured, you know. When you see him, you'll understand why my father wants him dead. Trust me, you're better off."

"Yeah, you're probably right," she heard herself saying in her monotone voice. But inside, her entire being writhed against this. _It can't be that bad...can it?_

But it was.

The soft, wide-eyed gaze was replaced with a glower, a scowl that seemed to be permanently locked on his face. His once-even gaze was lopsided, the left eye burned into an eternal glare, one that was almost matched by the right. In the few chance moments that she managed to see him, it was in the heat of the moment, in the middle of a battle, and her heart almost broke each time.

_What happened in these three years? What has made you hate life, hate living, so much?_

But then... there was a moment, a small moment, when Mai walked into the throneroom of Ba Sing Se to greet Azula and Zuko and congratulate them on their victory, when she saw that hard gaze turn into something softer. The corners of his eyes were drawn with some kind of anguish, and he looked so confused and worried, but when he finally looked at her - _really_ looked at her - the eyes, ever so slightly, warmed into something familiar, something she remembered and had kept with her for those three years apart.

The gaze was different, but those eyes, their depths... they were still the same. She kept that close to her heart. And soon, it was all she could see.


	25. Skin

_Writer's Note: Contains spoilers for the end of Book Two._

**Dewdrop**

Women of the Fire Nation were often viewed by the pallor of their skin - folly, since even the Fire Nation was filled with people with different skin tones and various shades and colours. But the old ways usually are loathe to die, and are even less inclined to do so among the noble classes.

Mai knew. If she had counted how many times her mother had shrieked at her to find some shade as a child, well... she would be a very rich woman, that was for sure.

"Mai, you are probably one of the luckiest girls in the world," her mother insisted, pulling a large-brimmed hat over her unwilling head. "You have naturally pale skin, and you should do whatever it takes to preserve it!"

"Why?" Mai spat out, her mother's tugging frustrating her to impatience. "It's just stupid skin."

"It's the cloak you wear as a noblewoman," her mother said sternly. "Any woman with such pale skin is sure to be of wealthy and noble means, of the bluest and brightest of bloodlines."

Mai sneered. "Great-grandpa was a fisherman."

Which earned her a dismissal from her mother's inner chambers for the rest of the day, despite it being true.

When Zuko met her, he looked at her with such wide eyes and pink cheeks that she wondered if what her mother said was actually true. After all, here was the prince, and his skin was almost as pale as hers. And already, he was looking at her like she was a pretty doll, even after being thrown into a fountain with him.

But that didn't last. Years of seaside exile weathered his skin to something darker - skin that darkened even further when he spent so much time in the Earth Kingdom. Mai marvelled at the change, privately admitting that despite it all, her prince really was still rather beautiful.

"Did you ever notice how pale my skin was?" Mai wondered one night at his side, feeling his fingers running through her long hair slowly. Her hand was upon his chest, and she noticed how even her hand was lighter than his skin there, too.

"Mm?" he said sleepily, and she repeated her question. "Oh. Yeah, I guess."

"Because noblewomen always have such pale skin?"

"They what?" He made a face. "No, not because of that. What? It was because your skin always looked so smooth, and delicate, and sometimes..." He blushed, and she smiled. "Sometimes I worried you would shatter if I touched you."

"And now?" She looked up at him. He looked into her eyes, and she felt that all-familiar thump in her chest.

"Now," he said softly, "I wish I had touched you sooner. I missed so many moments that could have kept me saner."

She curled closer to him. The day after that, she stopped her dutiful regiment to keeping her skin pale. She wanted Zuko to never fear touching her again.


	26. Blood

_Warning: Spoilers for the end of the series. Also warning for some graphic imagery and description of stillbirth._

**Love and Loss**

Blood was said to be the source of life. The thick substance that coursed through every living thing in some variation was what connected all living things together. Without it, one could not live. With it, a person could live to the fullest.

It was said that to be hot-blooded was to be passionate. Blood curdled if scared. Blood raced if excited. Blood chilled if one felt wronged.

It was blood that made Zuko feel all of these things. It was also the sight of blood that made him feel this way.

But fear was the most he felt, above everything else.

He had stayed at Mai's side as long as he could, no matter how hard she crushed his hand with hers, no matter how loud she screamed and cursed and cried. But when he caught the scent - and sight - of blood, he was abruptly led out of the room, despite his protests and orders, and was forced to leave her alone.

Now he listened, pacing, shaking, wishing he could do something, vowing that nothing mattered if Mai was okay, nothing mattered if she got through unscathed, it would be okay if they lost this one if she lived to try again...

Silence. Sudden, breathtaking silence. Zuko felt his heart skip several beats, holding his breath, trying to strain his hearing, desperate to hear something, _anything..._

Silence. Only silence.

Something feral blossomed deep in his chest, and he shouted, slamming a fist on the door. When the silence stretched on, he did it again, louder, harder.

Finally, the door slid open, revealing the pale midwife. Zuko stared at her, fighting the urge to grab her and shake her. The silence was deafening.

Slowly, the midwife shook her head.

Something in Zuko snapped, and he lunged forward and shoved her aside, running into the room that smelled like blood and pain and fear...

It was dim, and quiet. His eyes fell on the midwife's assistant, who was hunched over and wrapping something small in a blanket, her face drawn and her eyes averted from him. His heart ached, knowing what that meant, but he pushed it aside, desperation making him forget it - just for a moment.

Also wrapped in blankets up to her chin was Mai, looking pale and tiny. Her eyes were closed, but she was breathing, shivering. Blood stained some of the blankets, but she didn't seem to notice - or care.

Zuko went to her side, sitting at the edge of the bed and leaning down, taking her gently into his arms and holding her close. Her arms went around him, weak but firm, her hot tears burning his chest as she wept. He held her softly, worried about hurting her, but not wanting to deny her comfort. Carefully, he whispered to her, words of encouragement, about how they'll try again, about how this wasn't the end. Mai merely whimpered, her eyes shut, her teeth gritted together.

Blood was the source of life. But it can also be a sign that life is taken away.

Zuko learned this the night he lost his first child.


	27. Mask

**Raw Feeling**

Mai was proud of the mask she wore, the mask of apathy and uncaring, the mask that allowed her to follow Azula's whims and wishes without seeming to have any real care on the matter. She was proud that she could fool people into believing that she was cold, ruthless, and constantly bored. She had worked all of her life to ensure that people judged her emotionless.

The fact of the matter was was that she felt _too much_. Her entire world brimmed with emotions. She felt so much joy and so much sadness, explosive hyperness and raging hatred. She felt her blood rush with these feelings, feel her insides quiver and quake with the intensity of each one.

But emotion was folly in the political world. To show anything other than what others wanted to see made you a bad politician. Mai was her father's little girl doll, and thus she had to keep everything to herself, keep smiling through indignance, keep prim and proper through the urge to run wild, keep silent when all she wanted to do was scream out.

She was convinced that it would kill her someday, that her body would just burn out on itself for keeping it all inside.

But then she met Zuko, the prince of the entire country, who was bold and brash and silly, hot-headed and temperamental and easily embarrassed. His naked emotion and eagerness to please seemed to snake under her skin and slowly peel away the mask she held so firmly in place.

Soon, she found herself laughing with him. Raging with him. Crying or shouting or singing with him. With him, she could be free. With him, her emotions could come out.

She could be _herself_, and the mask would remain discarded.


	28. Naked

**Revealing**

He was the first person outside of her family to ever see her naked. Really, it was true. Even in the Academy, Mai never allowed herself to be naked completely, not once, not ever. Ty Lee had been completely uncaring about it, and Azula had glared whenever anyone other than Ty Lee or Mai looked at her while she changed, but Mai tried to hide herself as best she could.

She was embarrassed of her body. She was too pale, too skinny. Her limbs were sharp and angular, her curves barely there at all. Sometimes her skin looked so pale it seemed almost blue. She vowed never to show anyone her body, ever. She favoured loose clothing, not just because they looked cool and were comfortable, but they shielded her from any sort of comments that her lacking form would draw from rude observers. Especially when standing beside Ty Lee or Azula.

But then, quite suddenly, when she and Zuko became close again, and their kisses and touches moved from just that to removing clothes, she wondered what it would be like to show him herself. She wondered how he would react, if he would hate how she looked. She knew that they would get there eventually, and she decided to just get it over with.

So one afternoon, when they were alone (no Azula in sight), Mai locked him up in her room and sat him down on her bed while she undressed in front of him.

"I'm supposed to just sit here?" he wondered, his voice cracking and his eyes watching her. His hands were in his lap and he constantly tangled them together, getting even worse when she shrugged off her sleeveless tunic and went for her robe.

"Shut up," she answered instead. "If we're going to do this at all - and I'm not saying we will - we're going to do it right. I need to know something, so just sit and watch."

And he did. He was quiet, his gaze on her the whole time as she undressed, and she knew he couldn't miss how her hands shook a little and how she wouldn't meet his eyes.

When her hair was loosed from its buns and finger-brushed around her shoulders, she stood tall, her eyes on her feet. She fought the urge to cover herself. "Well, say something," she snapped, her voice icy. "I know I'm not great, but at least say something."

He said nothing, and still she kept her head turned away. It was only when she heard him getting up that she looked towards him, and saw that he was walking towards her with the strangest expression on his face. He looked... mystified? Was that the right word? Like he couldn't believe what he was seeing. She felt a sudden hot wave of shame course through her, and her hands went up to push him away and grab her clothes, but he reached out and took them. His hands were so warm - they were always so warm.

He leaned his head in close and pressed his forehead to hers. She gulped, her eyes finally meeting his, startled by the naked affection there. "You're just lovely," he whispered. "Just... wow. You're so pretty. And small. And, uh... naked. Really, really naked."

He stuttered, and his face was bright red, so she knew he was telling the truth. Still, it was such a cheesy, dweeby answer, and she laughed a little, relieved and hopelessly loving him all at once.


	29. Clothing

**Takes place post-series and contains spoilers.  
**

**Pompous Armour**

In the public eye, clothing was important. Zuko knew this. He had known this as a child, when his mother had taken great care with his appearance, making sure that no hair was out of place and no wrinkle dared sully his robes. He had known this in his exile, when clothes were the only thing that seemed to remind people of who he was - or at least used to be. He knew it even better as an adult, as Firelord, when what he wore had the tendency to reflect the state of the Nation.

Knowing that not much stood between himself and the public, he did his best to keep the charade perfect. Following his mother's faded advice and begging help from Mai - who always seemed to be immaculate in whatever she wore - he strove to be the perfect example of a pristine Firelord. His people deserved no less. They had the right to depend on him, to believe that their Firelord was exempt from the flaws of regular humanity.

Without Mai, though, it would have probably gone to his head. He would have started to believe that he was invincible, that his pristine Firelord imagery was in fact reality. It felt like wearing his clothes like this was akin to being clothed in layer upon layer of flawless armour, armour in which no one could ever even dream of penetrating.

Except when it came to Mai.

"You look like a peacock," she would say when she caught him walking around with his nose in the air. "Are there feathers up your butt?"

"Ugh. Why are you wearing so much gold?" she would scowl, holding her hands out in front of her to block him from her sight. "Are you really trying to blind everyone?"

"Stop being mean to me!" he snapped at one point, his face bright red. She had just called his hairstyle too elaborate even for a concubine. "I'm trying to look my best for my people! They need a Firelord they can pin their hopes on!"

Mai rolled her eyes and walked over to him, getting up close to him, their noses almost touching. Her expression was one of tired impatience. "Zuko, the people don't want you to dress up and be fake, like some kind of actor. They want you to be you, because you're the one who helped end the war, _just the way you are_."

Zuko blinked slowly at her, surprised. It made sense. "But, my mother, she always said to look my best."

"Of course she did! That makes sense! But I doubt she meant 'best' to mean 'look like a foppish idiot'!"

His face went scarlet. "I am not a fop."

She reached up with a sly grin and messed up his hair. "Then stop looking like one, you silly turtle-duck."

After that, he took her advice. And he had to admit, it was much more comfortable.


End file.
